


leave your light on

by starsaregoingout (abovetheruins)



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/starsaregoingout
Summary: In which there is some worrying. And some waiting.You're used to it.





	leave your light on

**Author's Note:**

> recently watched bright and fell in love with the beautiful elf man. don't look at me like that, i know i'm not the only one.
> 
> just a forewarning: there's probably more of this on the horizon.

You resist the urge to fidget as you walk briskly down the street. Well, as briskly as you can with your bag tossed over your shoulder, filled with a weekend's worth of clothes. Also a book or two. Maybe three. You've learned to be prepared, even with your lover's assertions that work won't interfere with your time together. _Especially_ then, actually.

You blow out a breath, flushing as a tall, willowy elf nearby sends a look your way. You flush a bit and pick up your pace. You're used to that look, though you've yet to master the art of being unaffected by it. You duck your head and continue on your way, ignoring the occasional prickles on the back of your neck. More stares. Most of them of the unfriendly variety.

You're used to that, too. You'd expect nothing less, a human like you in the midst of Elftown. At least most of the crowd is so preoccupied with their own selves and where they're headed that they barely spare you a glance as they go about their business. 

And they're not _all_ unfriendly. Most of the time you get peeks that are more curious than anything; you've learned to steer clear of the ones that broadcast disdain or disgust. You'd rather avoid a confrontation. If there's one thing you hate more than being stared at, after all, it's being stared _down_ at.

Why did all elves have to be so damn tall, anyway? Slim and slender down to the tips of their pointed ears, the lot of them. You probably stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of so many posh men and women, the bulk of them dressed as if they were en route to a Hollywood premiere, all tailored, fitted outfits and designer sunglasses. You made a point to smile at every human or orc you happened to spot in the crowd, rare as those sightings were. Solidarity was a precious thing.

You reserve your most genuine grin for the orc perched at the entrance to your destination: an apartment building just on the outskirts of town, close enough to offer a speedy commute to the heart of Elftown but far enough away that the crowded shopping centers (and the noise that came with them) weren't a nuisance.

The orc in question spots you coming and gives you his typical half-smile, broad shoulders clad in a fitted red uniform jacket and hands folded behind his back. _Sullivan_ was etched in curling script across his name tag.

"Hey, Sully," you say as you come closer, hitching your bag further up over your shoulder. 

He greets you with your name and a gruff, "Afternoon," as he holds the door open. "Heading up?"

You nod. "That's the plan. Have you seen him yet?"

Sullivan shakes his head. "'Fraid not," he says. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you say, not entirely surprised but disappointed all the same. "The day is young, I guess. Ah, speaking of - " You set your bag on the ground and dig around inside for a wrapped package, emblazoned with the logo of a local bakery in your neighborhood. You hand it over with a smile. "I know you're not supposed to eat on the clock, but... "

Sullivan grins, tucking the package into his coat pocket. "They'll keep until later," he says, lips curling for a moment before they smooth back into placidity.

You toss your bag over your shoulder and head in, taking in the familiar sight of the lobby and the front desk clerk. She lifts an eyebrow as you wave hello and returns to her book without a second glance; after a few months, you've learned that that's about the warmest greeting you're going to get from her.

You slip into the elevator and study your reflection in the door's mirrored surface as it climbs to the top floor, tracing your finger along the circles under your eyes. There have been some sleepless nights lately, and no doubt there are more on the horizon. 

But you knew what you were getting into. Long hours. A lover who spent most of his time hunting dangerous criminals. Dangerous _magic using_ criminals. You sigh.

There was something going on, of that much you were sure. Kandomere never told you more than the bare minimum about any of his cases; nothing you couldn't find out from the news. Nothing that would worry you.

You did enough of that on your own, despite his assertions that it was unnecessary. 

"I can take care of myself." How many times had he said that to you? In the same matter-of-fact tone, too; not in an attempt to dispell your worries so much as just stating facts. 

You'd be annoyed by his arrogance (it was hard to see until you dug down under that self-confident, composed veneer, but the man was downright _cocky_ ) if it didn't make you feel better about the dangerous nature of his job.

You sigh in relief once you finally make it to the top floor and slip your key into the door with the correct number emblazoned in gold leaf across its surface. Letting yourself in to Kandomere's apartment has yet to lose its novelty, and honestly you still feel a little like a guest whose too afraid to scuff up the floors or spill something on the expensive furniture, but the familiar scents of sandalwood and lavender never fail to put you more at ease.

You're able to forget the world outside while you're here: the judging eyes that followed you whenever you stepped foot in Elftown might as well be a thousand miles away for all the effect they have on you now. 

Though it would help more if you weren't alone.

You stow your shoes by the door and drop your bag off in the bedroom, sinking onto the bed for a moment as you pull out your phone. Kandomere's scent is stronger here, the faint traces of his cologne in the air bringing a smile to your face. You thumb open your lockscreen as you sprawl on the mattress, your shoulders slumping as you sink into the soft, downy comforter, and start composing a message. 

_Made it to the apartment_ , you type, and then, because you're feeling optimistic, _See you soon!_ You finish the text with a string of emojis you know will put that little furrow between Kandomere's eyebrows, the same one he gets whenever you wear your oldest, softest (and rattiest) sweater to bed, or whenever you order some overly sweetened dessert and refuse to give him any unless he actually asks for it. 

("Sorry, silent staring and cocked eyebrows don't count!")

You lay in a heap on the bed for a while, listening to the distant, tinny sounds of traffic from the street below coupled with your own soft breathing. You glance at the clock on your phone and mark the time. It's early yet, though that means nothing in the long run. If your suspicions are right and something is going on, then odds are you won't be seeing Kandomere any time soon. 

You don't bother to entertain any alternatives, though your stomach twists with unease as your mind supplies you with plenty of dangerous scenarios that could be keeping Kandomere out on the streets all night.

_Nothing that he can't handle_ , you think firmly, more than willing to borrow some of your lover's arrogance if it means you'll have some peace of mind tonight. 

You change into pajamas, including your infamously ugly (but infinitely comfortable) sweater, and camp out beneath ridiculously soft sheets with one of your books. Time passes slowly, though you try your best to become immersed in your story. Outside the window the sky shifts from dusky blue to red and purple with the coming sunset. You watch the colors blend and deepen as night settles over the city, and reach for your phone without giving it any thought.

_Be safe_ , you type. You quickly hit send, and then, just as quickly, type one more message.

_Also. I love you. Come back in one piece._

You reach for your book afterwards, though your fingers have barely touched the spine before your text notification goes off.

_I always do. Don't wait up._

You grin, equal parts amused and relieved as you open your book and settle in for a long night.

"Silly elf," you murmur, turning a page with a soft, fond smile. "It's like you don't know me at all."

*

Hours later, you lay in the dark and watch the sky drift from the depths of pitch to a softer, lighter blue. Your eyes feel heavy and a little sore, but your body is soft and relaxed, pliant against the silken sheets.

Faint footsteps from beyond the bedroom bring a smile to your lips, though you don't move from your spot, curled up on your side with your back to the door. You simply wait.

The click of heels on hardwood shift to the soft pad of socked feet on plush carpet, followed by the huff of even breaths growing closer to the bed. The rustle of fabric comes next, and as you listen you imagine in your mind's eye a suit jacket slipping over broad shoulders, slender fingers tugging vest buttons free of their holes, flicking open a belt buckle and pulling leather through the loops of fitted slacks. Each movement carried out with the same effortless precision, the same careless grace. 

It was a little ridiculous, how someone could make something so mundane look like a dance. Like art.

You remind yourself never to share these thoughts with your lover, already imagining the subtle (but no less self-satisfied) curl of lips you'd get for your troubles.

The mattress shifts as another body slips beneath the sheets. Even if you had been trying to feign sleep, the sensation of a warm chest pressing against your back - and the subsequent twitch of your shoulders - would have given you away.

"You're back," you murmur needlessly, warmth seeping in a continous line from your shoulders to your hips. 

An arm slips over your side, curling in and pulling you back even closer against the source of heat. You smile a little at the sight of an unbuttoned cuff. Ridding himself of the bare minimum rather than taking the time to change into his fancy (but ludicrously soft) night clothes means that Kandomere's tired enough from his exploits that you might actually be able to convince him to catch up on sleep. 

"You're awake," Kandomere replies, just as needlessly. 

You swallow a laugh. His exasperated tone, faint as it is, is proof enough that he expected to find you this way.

"So are you," you return, as if that explains everything, and it does. 

You don't say _I couldn't sleep without knowing you were safe._ You don't need to.

The hand at your side curls outward, fingers spreading and offering a smooth palm for your perusal. "One piece," Kandomere murmurs. You feel his chin tuck over your shoulder, the warmth of his breath across your cheek. "As promised."

You reach for his hand, slipping your fingers through the gaps between his, rubbing your thumb softly over the ridge of his knuckles. His chest moves against your back, your own breathes synching slowly with his as you both lie in silence. 

"So you are," you whisper eventually, the roughness of your voice belying the casual nature of your tone. You're always aware, in the back of your mind, that one day he might not be so lucky.

"Would you like to make sure for yourself?" Kandomere asks you, voice slipping into a softer, lower register. Even through the barrier of your sweater, you feel the weight of his lips against your shoulder.

Your breath hitches, just once, but it's more than enough to give you away. You don't even have to look to know that your lover's lips are curled in a smirk. _Damn him_ , you think, without heat. He always knows how to get to you. There's really no point in resisting, so you don't even try.

It's been long enough since you've seen your lover, after all, and with a grin you turn over to welcome him home.


End file.
